Hushed is the voice of sordid trade,
And e'en the birds' sweet song is stilled;
While all the cares that Life hath made
Slip from my heart, which now is filled
With peace alone. O Nature pure!
To thee, I turn, no more to stray
In spirit, with thee ever sure
To find sweet solace for the day!
O leafy homes where song-birds rest;
O gentle breeze that rocks and sways!